A Game All Too Real
by IbbleBibbleBibble
Summary: Team Fortress 2 Characters sit down for a D&D game with a very strange twist...
1. The game begins

It was a quiet day in the RED team's 2fort base. BLU had been wiped out the day before, and RED was sitting in the intel room, twiddling their thumbs. The antics started when Scout finally succeeded in prying open the intelligence briefcase from BLU's base.

"Hah! I am freakin' aMAZing! Wouldja look at that!" Everyone turned to look as the lock clicked open, but Spy. He could have done that in half the time. Scout scrambled to lift the lid before anyone else got too close, and hunched over the briefcase. "Huh?" He came up a second later with a stack of books. "What the crud's this? Books? BOOKS? That's what I just spent an hour bustin' my fingernails for? BOOKS?" Scout dropped them with a thunk on the desk and sat in the corner, mumbling all the while. Engineer pulled his chair over to the desk and took a look.

" 'Dungeons 'n' dragons', eh? Hmm… I reckon I've heard of this. But why would BLU have a game stashed in their intel?" He flipped through the book on the top, pictures of knights and wizards and monsters flitting by.

"A game, hm? Who knew books'd be good for something? We're all bored; let's give it a go, huh?" Scout said, his usual energy returning to him. The intel also contained 9 character sheets: one for each mercenary in BLU team. Since they had the same members as RED, everyone piled around, taking the sheet that matched them. Suddenly, the TV in the next room flickered on. A familiar face greeted the team.

The administrator, in her usual garb of a red and blue suit, frowned down at the team. She had spoken to them yesterday offering her congratulations on the victory. Now, though she always looked disappointed and angry, you could tell she was in less of a good mood. That was saying something.

"I suppose I should warn you what your idiocy will lead you to if you're not careful. Those aren't ordinary game books. There's something… Wrong with them. That's why BLU had them hidden away. I would watch myself if I were you. Don't, whatever you do, begin playing. That includes rolling the dice in the briefcase. If you do, there will be harsh consequences," she warned, gravely.

Sure enough, 9 blue sets of dice lay in glass boxes, carefully organized under a bit of lint and clutter. Each die had its own little compartment. The TV flickered off, but nobody was watching it anymore. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the boxes of dice.

"Do we play?" Asked Heavy, breaking an all-too-long silence.

"You heard the woman. Consequences. And what do we know about the admin's consequences?" Sniper asked. He didn't have to finish; everyone in the room shuddered as if struck by a sudden chill, knowing what he meant.

"Well, I say we do it anyways. What can she do for playing a game? It can't be too bad." Soldier reasoned. Sure enough, Scout and Demoman picked up a box each, followed by soldier. Medic held his hand up in warning, but it was too late. Scout took out a large, 20 sided die and spun it around on the desk. Sweat dripped off Medic's forehead as the die spun. Heavy snarled, shoving Scout to the ground, hitting the die with a meaty fist, stopping it and denting the desk.

A deep fog began to fill the room. The number one facing up from the die glowed green, and somehow thunder rumbled inside, even though it was a clear, cloudless sunny day outside. Wind began whipping the air, and the team covered their head with their hands. The character sheets blew around in the wind violently. Each one slapped their new owner in the forehead, sticking to their face. Suddenly, the team vanished into thin air.

"Oh, one last thing –" The TV flickered on again, showing the nervous face of the Administrator. "Oh no… Ohh…" She moaned as she saw the empty room. The books sat in a stack, black and charred.


	2. The forest and mysteries

Demoman woke up feeling groggy and light-headed. He rubbed his aching forehead, and opened his eye, looking around. He was alone in a dark forest. Cracks of sunlight shone through the treetops like fingers of an almighty being, groping for signs of life. Demo sat up, brushing twigs from his clothes. He froze. Instead of his RED team garb, he wore chainmail armor. He had a targe strapped to his back, along with a sword similar to the eyelander. He struggled to stand under the weight of his newfound armor, looking around wildly. Where was he? What in hell was he wearing? Where was the rest of the team? He walked deeper into the forest, calling out names.

Sniper found himself sprawled in the upmost branches of a huge tree. He found himself in boiled, hard leather armor. He had a longbow tied around his back, and his head was bare. He saw some figures walking below him on the forest floor, but he was too high up to make them out clearly. Looking around, managing to stay quiet, he spotted his Larrikin Robin over on the end of a fairly thin branch. He edged his way over, determined to get the hat that matched his clothes. He grabbed the hat, but the branch snapped as he crawled back to safety. He gritted his teeth, bracing for the long fall. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. He heard Demo's voice call out for him as the two green, raggedly clad, long-eared man-beasts closed in around him with swords as he blacked out, unable to catch his breath.

Soldier awoke with a straw hat pulled over his eyes, just widely woven enough to see through. He sat against a tree with a strange fruit hanging from it. He was outside a forest by a babbling brook. It was a sunny, warm summer day and he was glad to notice he wore little more than rags. A large, rusty axe and a backpack lay beside him. The thought crossed his mind to wonder where he was and how he had gotten there, but he mentally shrugged it off and enjoyed the gentle breeze blowing by. That is, until he heard Demo call out the names of teammates faintly from in the forest. He kept it up for a while, too. Soldier hoisted the pack onto his back with ease, grabbed the axe with both hands, and charged after the sound of the voice, unable to prevent himself from a battle cry.

Demo walked further into the forest, seeing strange new animals and berries in the underbrush. He chanced upon a man who looked like Sniper being stood over by two small, pointy-eared, sharp-toothed creatures with glowing yellow eyes. They wore rags. They were examining a small bag of gold coins and a longbow. They hadn't noticed Demo yet.

" Oy, Grob! Hand over that bow! Lemme see! Ya don't know how to work that thing!"

"Oh yeah, and you do? S'mine! You got the coins!" They had high-pitched snarly voices. They began to quarrel, when a man in similar rags and a red straw hat pulled over his eyes flew out into the clearing, roaring madly in a voice just like Soldier's. He swung an axe, the creatures dropping their loot and scattering, drawing swords. Demo took the similarity of these men to his teammates to be more than coincidence, and he charged out of the forest, hitting one of the green-skinned maniacs with his shield, knocking him down. The Soldier-like man continued his cry, swinging his axe, cleaving the sword arm off of the other creature. It roared shrilly in pain.

"Good to see some familiar faces, eh, Demo?" Asked the man, clearly Soldier.

"Aye!" He replied, grinning, as the disarmed creature toppled backwards. Demo cleaved its head off to finish the job, and the other one dropped its sword and fled.

"Drat! Grob! Grottius'll hear of dis, youse! Mark my words! You ain't seen the last of me!" It ran off into the shadows of the trees. Demo and Soldier high-fived each other, then knelt over sniper, gathering up the coins and bow.

"How's Sniper? and what were those?" Asked Demo, looking at the disemboweled creature. Soldier opened his mouth to reply, but a female voice cut him off like a knife.

"Those were simple goblins." It said, coyly. Demo and Soldier looked around wildly for the source of the voice. A green-armored, pointy-eared, thin woman wearing many leafy charms jumped from a high branch, landing on her feet. She had a sturdy longbow and long, blond hair. Her face was stern yet beautiful. Soldier leapt up, followed by Demo.

"Goblin? Wassat, a type of chocolate pudding?" Soldier grumbled. She replied:

"I know not what you speak of. The goblins roam the forests near here, looting hapless adventurers such as yourselves." She knelt over Sniper.  
>"What happened to your friend here? Fell from a tree?"<p>

"We don't know, we uh… Got separated." Demo said sheepishly. The woman with the pointy ears ignored him, pulling a small herb from a pouch on her belt.

"Give this to him when he wakes. It will ease the swelling. It's a curative of the forest." She hesitated, then extended her hand to Demo.

"I am Nila, Elf lordess of the Gimdro Forest." Demo shook her hand. He tried to come up with a medieval sounding name to match hers, with limited success.

"Damian Degroot. And these are… Sal Deer and, er, Shay Monday." He said, gesturing to himself, Soldier, and then Sniper. Soldier raised a mocking eyebrow, but Demo (Damian, to Nila) didn't catch it due to the hat.

"Come, Degroot, Deer. Deer, you are a strong barbarian. Take Monday on your shoulder."

"Barbarian, eh? And 'Sal Deer?' Really?" Whispered Soldier as he hoisted Sniper's body over his shoulder, grinning. Demo shrugged in response. They came to a huge clearing after an hour or two. Soldier tirelessly carried Sniper's light weight with a newfound strength. Soldier and Demo conversed in whispers about the oddity of their situation, trying to figure out where 'Gimdro Forest' was. They stopped when Nila overheard and started asking awkward questions on purpose, like where they were from. Sniper stirred as they stepped into the clearing.

Demo took him aside and quickly explained what had happened. Sniper explained he had no idea where they were, either.

"This is my home palace. It is the centerpiece of the elves in Gimdro Forest. We-"

"Elves?" Asked Soldier. "Like Santa Claus? So, what, are you the only tall one? Is that why you're in charge?" In truth, she was shorter than the average woman. She waved a hand at soldier, and he gasped silently.

"It's just a silencing spell, it'll wear off in half an hour. As I was saying,-"

This time, it was sniper who dared to cut her off.

"Spell? You do magic, you're telling me?"

"Of course. It is a common elvish practice. Now if I may continue…" She glared, continuing to explain the rich heritage of her people as they approached the palace. Sniper and Demo exchanged a "fine mess we've gotten ourselves into" look as Soldier continued to scream silently.


	3. The swamp and theft

Engineer fumbled in the dark, trying to find his way out of the cave. He kept stubbing his toes on rocks. Every time he did, he cursed out, the sound of his voice reverberating eerily in the gloom. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he saw a trickle of light. He hurried towards it, and found the mouth of the cave. In celebration, he took the lute off of his back and played a tune, singing, as he wandered into the marsh. Something glared at him out of the darkness of the mucky water and fens.

Engineer saw the thing, and stopped the song. He muttered to himself, slinging his banjo on his back, and drawing a dagger. The thing bolted quickly from the fen, dashing across the mud in a blur and spattering Engie with mud. Engie slashed wildly, to no avail, and picked up his lute as the thing came straight at him. It was humanoid in shape. Engie swung his lute even as the thing stopped short. Scout, dressed in furs, fell to the ground with a bloody nose, sinking into the mud.

That night, Engie and Scout sat at a roaring campfire. Engie was playing a song on the lute. Scout was still sulking after flying into a rage after waking up. There was a growl from the dark fens, and Scout stood.

"Lemme handle this, old man." He walked into the woods and came back 10 minutes later with three wolves tamely following behind. Engie's eyebrows shot up. They briefly discussed their mysterious arrival before curling up inside a hollow log and leaving the wolves as watchdogs. The next morning, they left the wolves in the swamp, venturing forth towards a nearby town they had seen from atop a hill. Scout was in a better mood, but for an odd reason, he refused to enter civilization.

In town, Engineer tried to make a little money in the afternoon when he arrived by playing his lute on street corners. He made a pocketful of silver and bronze coins after an hour, though he was unaware of their value. He spent the rest of the day asking around for general information such as this, attracting strange looks for asking the obvious. He trudged wearily to an inn when the streets cleared for the night. He hoped to get a bit more talking done in the tavern before bed. He only hoped he'd made enough money. He finally found a really cheap-looking inn, and stepped in the door. It must have been fairly late, as only two people were in the tavern when he arrived: the overweight, stocky barkeep and an even shorter, heavier man with a long, red, braided beard and a big bald patch. He greeted the men and sat next to the red-haired man. He was well-built, if a little fat, but fairly short. Engie asked the barkeep if he had enough for a stay and a few beers. He had just enough for a beer and two nights stay, which he took to be on the safe side.

He made good talk with the short man, a self-proclaimed "dwarf" named Thrang Silvertooth. Thrang was drunk enough to not mind answering plenty of obvious questions. Engie played him a little tune and received a gold coin that bought him another night's stay and a mug of fine ale. It was cold and soothing going down Engie's throat. He soon retired to his room for the night.

The next morning, he ate with Thrang and went to play music for money again. On the streets, he ran into a distraught peasant man whose life savings had been stolen on the way to the bank. Engineer decided to take pity and help the man out, in hopes of earning back some of the stolen money. They walked deeper into the alleys and streets local thieves stood on. The peasant knew the city well.

Scout went back to the swamp that day, setting up a small camp for the night. He had decided he wanted to be far away from the town. He spent the day hunting with a makeshift spear, and that night, he dined on elk, wishing he had someone to brag about the catch to.

Spy counted the coins in the small chest. He had already figured out the local currency, and he hoped it would buy him a few days to find out what was going on. It turned out the peasant he had robbed was surprisingly wealthy; Spy would be set for some time to come. He pocketed the chest, rising from his perch atop the church. He leapt, propelling himself from the weathervane. He dashed on the rooftops, the opposite direction from where he'd stolen from the peasant. He halted suddenly as he saw a man who looked remarkably similar to Engineer and the peasant from before. He stood at the edge of the roof of a tavern, but a shingle came loose and he went sprawling, falling into the alleyway. He hit the ground hard, the money chest rolling one way, his knife another. Engie and the peasant froze.

"There he is!" Cried the peasant.

"Spy?" Engie muttered under his breath.

Engie grabbed spy by the collar of his suit and hoisted him up.

"Now, what's the big idea, Spy? Stealing from peasants?" He whispered. He threw Spy down in disgust, retrieving the chest and returning it to its owner. A quick count revealed it was all there. Engineer received three gold coins for his troubles.

"Now, go on to the bank before another thief stops ya. I'll make sure this crook is reprimanded. Harshly." He said to the peasant with a glare at Spy. Spy frowned angrily, dusting off his suit. When the peasant left, Engie turned to Spy.

"Naturally I won't jail a teammate," he began. "But that's unacceptable. We can't go around as criminals, stealing from the civilians, if we ever hope to get back home. You won't be much good to us in jail, now willya?" Engie frowned. It wasn't the stealing itself he was mad about; rather drawing attention to themselves that was bad.

"Save it. Spy grumbled, rising to his feet gingerly, continuing to dust himself off. Engie dragged Spy off to the inn, telling him about scout as they went. Spy seemed thoroughly nervous, and didn't seem to care one way or the other about Scout. They stepped inside the inn, where by this hour, Thang was already downstairs in the tavern, drinking. He and the innkeeper froze.

"S'rong, fellas? This here's a pal o' mine." Said Engie.

"What's wrong is that that _pal_ is a wanted criminal! Barkeep, fetch the guards. I'll keep an eye on these two."

"Bloody hell, Night Shade, in _my _inn! Gracious!" The barkeep scurried out. Thang rose, glaring at the two of them, raising a crossbow and leveling it at spy.

"Night Shade?" Asked Engie, putting his hands up. Spy shrugged and did the same.


	4. The mountain and assault

Medic was out of breath. He had been climbing this mountain in blistering summer heat, lugging around a mace and a strange gold symbol, with no idea where he was and how he'd gotten there. He sat down for 20-odd minutes, then finished climbing. The air was a little thin at the peak, making it impossible to fully catch one's breath. He saw a familiar frame hunched over, only it bore crimson armor and a large, repeating crossbow instead of a vest and a belt of bullets. The figure turned around. It lifted the visor to its helmet, which had a plume rising from the back.

"Medic!" Roared a deep, rumbly voice. Heavy ran at him, arms outstretched. Medic leapt to the side at the last minute, and Heavy nearly ran straight off a cliff. Medic tried talking rationally to Heavy, which proved impossible. Eventually he gave up and suggested they climb down. Heavy ran at amazing speed considering his heavy, probably sweltering newfound armor. Medic looked down at his chainmail, hot with the sun's rays, and sighed, starting to follow Heavy.

They were at the foot of the mountain at nighttime. They tried setting a campfire, to no avail. They were about to sleep when they caught sight of a fire a little further off in the crag. They cautiously approached, where they saw a red, fiery-robed man hunched over a roaring fire. It had gotten quite cold that night, and Medic was shivering.

"Hello? Who's there?" Medic called. No response. Heavy walked right up and took off his helmet, warming his hands on the fire. The man looked at Heavy, his hood draped low over his face, casting a dark shroud over his head, even in front of an impressive fire.

"Hudduh," he mumbled, and turned back to the fire. Medic came closer.

"Excuse me? Sir?"

"Hudduh huh huh," he replied.

"I can't understand you. Could you-" Medic was cut off by the man standing suddenly, whirling in a full circle, looking for something. He froze, and raised a gloved hand. He pointed a finger, and to Medic's shock and horror, as well as Heavy's surprise, _fire_ blasted from his fingertip and arched over a boulder. A hideous roar filled the night air, echoing in the crag. Heavy rose, readying his crossbow, an angry look on his face.

"Who is there? Show self, coward!" Heavy roared. A grunt replied. Then:

"Who you callin' coward, bastard? I'll rip yer 'ead off!" A man in tattered rags and a wooden mask, with a horrid burn on his chest from the fire rose from behind the boulder, standing at least 7 foot. Medic readied his mace, hoping he wouldn't have to use it, but at the same time glad he'd lugged it around. The man in the rags took up a large metal mallet and charged at Heavy, roaring. Heavy fired off several crossbow bolts into the man's chest, barely slowing him. Heavy didn't dodge in time, and the mallet smashed into his side. Heavy grunted, grabbing for the mallet with one hand and holding his crossbow with the other. Six more men approached, including one humongous, robust, 9-foot monstrosity of a man. His mask had feathers and bore paint. He had chest hair in the shape of Australia. He lifted the mask, revealing war paint, narrow eyes, and a pointy mustache. The other men carried an array of clubs, swords, and mallets, but he simply wore spiked gauntlets. "We are the Axton Bale barbarians! Surrender yourselves to us or die at the hands of the drake!"

"HUDDA-HA!" The man cried, releasing a spray of fire from both palms, repelling two barbarians.

"Pyro?" Medic wondered aloud.

"Very well." Said the colossal man. "Then I shall rip you each limb from limb myself. " The fight raged, but Pyro mainly ducked and weaved, releasing no more fire from seemingly nowhere. Heavy and Medic were losing ground and taking hits, fast.

"Pyro! The fire, the fire!" Cried Medic. Alas, Pyro continued to duck and dodge, moving further from the fray. Heavy was heavily battered, but showed no signs of backing down. Medic, on the other hand, had several harsh wounds and was getting weaker by the second. The fight only lasted at most forty seconds. Pyro stumbled, and the three teammates were soon surrounded fully.

"Learn this to you not to mess with Axton Bale…" Said the gargantuan man, before punching the three of them unconscious.

Medic was the first one to awake, his head splitting from a headache. He figured he had a few broken ribs and deep cuts, but nothing more. He looked around. Pyro was nowhere to be seen, and he and Heavy had been stripped of armor and weapons. Heavy looked very injured, and for a while Medic was unsure he would awake. The gold symbol around his neck eventually began to glow a faint red. Medic lifted it up and instinctively held it out to Heavy. He found himself chanting strange words in a language he'd never heard, but the words came out thoughtlessly. The red light enveloped Heavy's crumpled body. Medic gasped as he saw Heavy's wounds heal and close up. Soon, Heavy blinked groggily back into consciousness. He looked around, then asked Medic:

"What happens now?"

"Now? Ahaha… Let's go practice medicine!"

With that Medic helped Heavy to his feet and they strode through the dank dungeon, Heavy cracking his knuckles.


End file.
